


Love in the Time of Zombies

by bgn



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 12:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4564881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgn/pseuds/bgn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl is an actor. He and Glenn meet in L.A. but are separated on opposite sides of the country when the ZA happens. It's mostly Daryl/Glenn but other characters are included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guys and Dolls

Daryl

Daryl Dixon was getting noticed.   


It was bullshit of course and Daryl didn't let it go to his head because he was 30 when it started, not a young kid swept away by the sudden attention and believing all the hype that went with it.

Still, it was flattering and the past four years had been quite a ride. But folks are fickle and fame can be fleeting so Daryl was prepared for it to be over as fast as it began. Especially because he was gay and not out. These things can't be kept quiet forever. Daryl hadn't had a partner since coming to Hollywood and he didn't court the media like some celebrities did but pretended they didn't. So the tabloids weren't very interested yet. If his next film hit really big that could change and he was considering whether to come out before someone delved into his history.

Being gay wasn't a big deal anymore but when you're a rising action star and a lot of guys wished they were you or the characters you played, the tide could turn against you. It wouldn't be a big outrage which might bring backlash to the haters. It was more likely to be a subtle shifting of focus to someone else in your line. There were always others waiting to be discovered and pretty soon studio heads would pass when your name came up where before they'd be throwing money at your agent to get you on board. And one day you wake up and the phone has stopped ringing and there's nowhere you need to be.

Fortune could be as fleeting as fame so Daryl lived modestly but was generous enough not to be thought of as cheap. He'd never been the flashy kind so no one expected a lavish lifestyle. He was saving for the day when his luck ran out.

His agent had been careful about marketing and exposure. Andrea said it was a fine line between keeping you visible and ruining your brand with oversaturation. She was an entertainment lawyer and Daryl trusted her to look out for him. Andrea had good instincts so when the offer came to create a Daryl Dixon action figure, Daryl went along with it even though he was a little embarrassed and didn't understand why the figure should be him instead of the characters he played. Apparently the recent economy made multiple figures sold separately too much for the traffic to bear so the compromise was celebrity figures sized like Ken and Barbie and sold with outfits of the characters the actors played. Daryl was grateful it was called an action figure instead of a doll. There would be Military Daryl, Cowboy Daryl, Outlaw Daryl and Spy Daryl. There had been supporting roles in the two years before his first lead but no one was interested in marketing those and Daryl knew he wasn't very good when he first started. But he appreciated the experience gained from those earlier movies.

Figures in the past hadn't been completely successful because they were tiny and didn't look enough like the actors they represented. So the manufacturer had lined up a hotshot computer wizard to design these new larger action figures. It had been so profitable for the top box office names that they went on to the up-and-coming second tier like Daryl. Got to keep feeding that consumer machine and giving people another reason to part with their dollars.


	2. Tights - Camera - Action!

Glenn 

There are two men waiting in the studio when I walk in carrying the mo-cap suit. "Which one of you gets the tights?"

One man brandishes his right arm at me with a hook where the hand should be. "I'm Captain Hook." He points at the other man. "There's your Peter Pan."

I recognize Daryl Dixon now. He's an inch shorter than Hook. They both have blue eyes but Daryl's are topped by rumpled brown hair and Hook has a graying buzz cut.

"Daryl Dixon," the man says with a slight drawl. "That's my brother Merle."

"Glenn Rhee. I'm your technician today. Let's do motion capture first then the body molds." I hand the suit to Daryl. "You can change in there."

Daryl heads to the bathroom.

"You one of them Chinese kids who's a whiz with this tech stuff?"

"First, I was born in Michigan and we're pretty good with tech stuff in America. Second, my parents were from Korea."

"Whatever."

Merle ignores the club chairs, stretches out on the sofa and pulls out copies of  _Field & Stream_ and  _Guns & Ammo_. He appears torn between which one to open first.

Daryl returns in the black suit. He looks terrific and that's not always the case because form fitting is not forgiving. He has broad shoulders and great arms. His chest tapers down to a flat belly. His legs are lean but muscled. My eyes skip over his groin but that doesn't mean I missed the bulge. I don't trust my voice so I twirl my index finger to indicate he should turn around. The back view is as good as the front. His back narrows to buttocks that are ... well, squeezable is the word that comes to mind. My mind anyway.

I begin attaching markers which means I have a reason to touch all over his body. Well, not everywhere. This isn't a porno so there's no reason to capture cock movements. But my hands are close to that area when placing the markers on his thighs and hipbones. I'm trying to be careful not to brush against the bulge but it happens anyway and I swear it's not my fault. It's bigger than when we started.

Daryl knows because he tenses up and says softly, "Sorry." He sounds embarrassed.

"No worries," I say nonchalantly, hoping to give the impression that it happens a lot. I can feel him relax but the bulge doesn't go away. The truth is this has never happened to me before.

"Hey," Merle calls out. "I'm eating over here. Have some respect for my digestion." He's munching on a donut.

"Your choice of course," I say to Daryl. "But why is he here?"

"He's my driver and bodyguard if I need one."

"But he's only got one hand."

"And you only got one throat," Merle says from behind me.

I didn't hear him get up or walk over. Something is against my neck. Merle moves his arm away and I see that the hook has been replaced by a knife. I jerk my head back and it bumps against something. I turn and see a gun in Merle's other hand. Only hand actually.

Merle grins. "I ain't just one hand and a pretty face. I come with accessories."

"Knock it off, Merle. Quit scaring Glenn. Save it for a real threat."

"It's okay." My voice is a little squeaky. "I'm glad to know you're in good hand."

Merle laughs. He puts the gun in one pocket, detaches the knife from his stump, sheaths it inside his jacket, pulls a prosthetic hand from another pocket and attaches it to his stump. All in like five seconds.

"Are you in danger?" I ask Daryl.

"No," Daryl says.

"Probably not," Merle corrects. "But he's getting known and there are fans that aren't good with boundaries. And some freaks that might not care for queers in action movies."

"I didn't know you're gay."

Daryl shrugs. "I don't hide it but I don't advertise either."

"Me, too. But I'm not in the public eye so it doesn't matter." Did Daryl get excited because of me? I'm getting excited thinking of having that effect on him. I'd be popping a boner if I wasn't so professional. And if my jeans weren't so tight.

Merle returns to the sofa and his magazines. I have new respect for him.

I position Daryl on the grid and check the software.

A beautiful blonde woman comes into the studio.

"Well, hello there, Sugar Tits," Merle says admiringly. My new respect for him diminishes.

The woman ignores him, as well she should. She looks at Daryl. "Hi, Daryl."

"Morning, Andrea."

"Ah Darlin', don't be like this." Merle isn't a quitter.

"C'mere," he says. Incredibly, she crosses to him, leans down and kisses him. He whispers something. She straightens and walks over to us.

My agent and sister-in-law," Daryl says to me. "Andrea Harrison, this is Glenn Rhee."

Her smile is genuine. How can she be married to Merle?

"Daryl, your brother is grilling Sunday and the kids haven't seen you lately. Can you make it?"

Kids, plural. How many times did she procreate with Merle?

"Sure. What time?"

"About five. We'll eat at six." She turns to me. "Glenn, if you're not completely offended by my husband, won't you join us?"

"I don't want to crash a family party."

"It's just us, the kids and my sister. Please come."

"Okay, thank you. Where is it?"

"Give me your number and I'll text the address. But you're busy. I didn't mean to interrupt ..."

"I'll get him there," Daryl says.

I start to say, "You don't have to ..."

"No problem, I'll swing by on my way."

"You don't know where I live."

"You'll tell me when we're done here."

"Perfect!" Andrea says. "I'll stop holding you up. See you both on Sunday." She turns to Merle. "I'll see you tonight."

"If I got nothin' better going on."

"You'll never have anything better than me."

Motion capture doesn't take as long as if it was being done for CGI on a film. This is just to get basic movements to make the action figure more realistic. Body molds take longer and are much messier. The upside is that I get to put my hands all over Daryl Dixon again.


	3. Shaken and Stirred

Daryl 

The computer tech was a young Asian guy who got Daryl stirred up even before he found out the kid was gay. He considered rubbing out a quick one in the bathroom while changing into the mo-cap suit but was sure he could control himself. Until the kid started touching him all over. Daryl couldn't blame it on abstinence. He hadn't had a partner for several years but he took care of himself regularly. He met good-looking men all the time and had never reacted like this before. It wasn't just physical. Something about this kid tugged at more than his dick. Two days until Sunday seemed like a long time.

As Merle drove away from the studio he asked, "You really get wood for that kid?"

"He was practically rubbing my dick."

"Thing's so big he probably couldn't keep out of its way. And since he's a homo it's likely he didn't try very hard to avoid it. You interested?"

"Maybe."

"You can find out for sure on Sunday."

"Yeah, good thing Andrea invited him."

"You're welcome."

Daryl thought about that. "What did you say to Andrea when she kissed you?"

"What do you think? Told her to ask your kid crush along."

"Well, thanks."

"You owe me if it turns into something."

Sunday afternoon Daryl drove his bike instead of his truck so Glenn would have to hold on to him. The kid looked better than he remembered and as the afternoon slipped into evening he liked everything else about him as well. He was funny but not loud or obnoxious. He talked easily but listened just as much. He was good with Daryl's niece and nephew, four-year old Chloe and two-year-old Caleb. Andrea's sister Amy was a couple of years younger than Glenn. Daryl was glad they got along but it was a good thing he knew Glenn was gay or he might have been jealous.

As the evening wound down Glenn said, "I should be getting home."

"We could go for a ride," Daryl offered. "Stop by my place if you want to."


	4. Meat and Heat

Glenn

I like riding behind Daryl. And that's not a euphemism because I'd prefer him behind me for that kind of riding. Which I'm pretty sure will happen tonight.

Andrea and Merle have a beautiful home – with a pool of course – but it's not one of those Beverly Hills estates on acres of land. I wonder what Daryl's home will be like. He doesn't seem like the kind to want all the trappings of celebrity. We ride to the end of the street and take a right and take another right at the next corner and pull up at a gate. Daryl punches in a code and the gate swings open and closes behind us. The house is fairly small and I like the looks of it right away. It's more of a cozy guest cottage … wait a minute. The fence behind the house looks familiar because I was looking at it from the other side a few minutes ago.

"This is the same property!"

"Yep. Merle, Andrea and I bought it together. They need a house for the kids and I didn't want to rattle around in a big place by myself so the cottage is just right."

The inside is nice but not too fancy. The finish work and furnishings are quality but it's simple and comfortable. Daryl shows me around, ending at his bedroom.

"Nobody else has been here with me," Daryl says. "And it's been awhile."

"I'm glad you haven't been spreading yourself around. It's been awhile for me, too."

Kissing feels natural and almost familiar. I could be genteel and say that we disrobe in haste but that sounds like a bodice ripper book so I'll just admit we strip pretty fast. I was already aware that Daryl had a branch not a twig and now I also know that his foliage is pruned. Considering his profession I shouldn't be surprised that Daryl manscapes. I do myself but it's minimal because I don't have much body hair. Daryl isn't a beast but he has more hair than me and it's skillfully tended so the result is manly not metro.

We explore each other thoroughly. Over and over. Daryl is thirty-four – ten years older than me – but he's got stamina. I thought we were done after the second time. I was sure we were done after the third time but then Daryl's cock fell over my shoulder and it needed attention. Good thing my mouth was right there.

It's the best night of my life and the morning after is just as good because Daryl invites me to Georgia for Memorial Day weekend. Daryl and his brother's family are flying out Wednesday afternoon. Amy and I have to work the rest of the week so we'll go together Saturday morning and everyone will fly back Monday night. Daryl's schedule is tight until he leaves so we don't have time to get together again but we'll have the weekend in Georgia.

This is more than just sex to me. I really like Daryl and I hope it's more than just sex to him, too.


	5. Back Stories and Frontal Nudity

Daryl 

This kid made him so hard he hurt and it happened so often Daryl was afraid Glenn might think he was a sex addict. When they were both drained but not ready to sleep yet Glenn said, "I'm sure you get asked this a lot but I'd really like to know. How did you get into acting?"

It was a good story and Daryl didn't mind telling it.

_Six years ago the Dixon brothers went on a hunting trip to California. They bagged their prey, dressed it out and shipped the meat home. They decided to play tourist instead of heading home early. They were walking down the street and saw a woman on her cell phone. She didn't sound happy._

" _How is that my problem? Why do I need to find two more extras in an hour?" At that moment the woman saw them walking toward her. "I'll get back to you." She clicked off and marched up, looking them over closely._

_She spoke to Daryl. "Can you stand around looking stupid for hours?"_

_Daryl was too surprised to speak. His face was blank._

" _Perfect. How would you guys like to be extras in a movie? One hundred dollars each for the day." She didn't tell them it would be at least eight hours, probably ten, maybe twelve and possibly fourteen._

_The brothers looked at each other. They were in._

" _Excellent. I'm Andrea Harrison." She took their pictures with her phone and said, "Come with me."_

_On the way to her car Andrea made a call. "I'll be on set in thirty minutes with two extras. I'm sending their pics. If I don't show up, hunt them down. And give me a good memorial service."_

_Merle sat in front and Daryl in back. She asked for their names as she drove and, when she heard their accents, learned that they were from Georgia._

" _These are not speaking parts. You and ten other guys will stand around or do little bits of business, whatever the director or AD tells you. A dozen extras were ordered for today and only four showed up. They managed to scramble six but they need two more."_

" _It's so hard to find guys to be extras in Hollywood?" Daryl asked._

" _Harder than you think at the last minute. We don't have wardrobe for extras. They wear their own clothes and you guys are dressed right."_

" _How come you didn't ask if I could stand around and look stupid?" Merle asked._

_Andrea glanced at him. "I could tell you were Method." Her lips curved in a barely there smile. Merle grinned._

_The brothers didn't have much waiting for them in Georgia so they stayed on and Andrea got them more work as extras. Merle and Andrea hooked up pretty soon and it got more serious than either of them thought it would. Meanwhile, Daryl had a look that was good in Hollywood and he got a few small speaking roles then larger supporting roles and eventually his first lead. It wasn't widely released but it led to bigger and better movies and he acquired a small cult following that was still expanding._

"What about you?" Daryl asked Glenn. "You told Merle you're from Michigan."

"Born and raised. My parents and sisters live there. But I actually lived in Atlanta for three years and delivered pizza while going to college. Then I got into a tech program at UCLA and came here to finish my degree. Got into CGI work and moved on to making action figures more realistic. It's kind of my niche now."

"Have a lot of boyfriends?"

"Two, one in high school and one in college. I've been working my ass off since then. Over-achieving Asian, you know."

"Your ass is fine. Very fine."

"Right back at you. Your ass and everything else."

Daryl was booked solid the next three days in order to take time off in Georgia. He didn't want to wait more than a week to see Glenn again so the solution was obvious. Glenn sounded pleased to be invited, and he and Amy could keep each other company on the flight out.

Wednesday night Daryl texted Glenn when he arrived in Georgia. Daryl had never liked being answerable to anybody and he'd never felt like keeping tabs on anybody before but it was different this time. He wanted to let Glenn know what was going on and wanted to know what was happening with Glenn.

Glenn sent back a dick pic with the message 'miss u'. Daryl recognized the dick from close personal scrutiny three days ago and was sorry it was now more than two thousand miles away.

He replied with a pic of his own and the message 'c u soon'. And then followed up with a call because texting wasn't satisfying enough.

"I never sent anything like that to anybody before," Daryl said.

"I won't make it public," Glenn said quickly. "I would never do that."

"I know you wouldn't." Daryl felt bad that Glenn thought he called to make sure his dick pic didn't get leaked. "That's not why I called, I just wanted to hear your voice. A text isn't as good. Although I appreciate the visual. Probably not the first time you sent one?"

"It's the third. I hope you don't mind?"

"I'd rather be the last one to get it than the first."

Daryl went to bed happy and hopeful.


	6. Beginning of the End

Daryl

Daryl woke up to horror and hysteria.

First it was just reports of a mutant virus affecting a few people. They lost consciousness and appeared to be dead then woke up and exhibited aggressive and violent behavior. By noon it had spread and was happening everywhere. International flights were grounded in an effort to contain the outbreak. Centers for disease control all over the world were involved. There were rumors that this was an engineered pandemic. By evening the rumors were confirmed and National Guard units were mobilized to keep order. It was getting hard to keep in contact. Communications were overloaded.

At first it seemed best to stay put and let the virus run its course but as more info trickled in it became clear this wasn't going away with a few days bed rest and plenty of fluids. Andrea was worried about Amy and Daryl was worried about Glenn. By the time they got through it was too late for them to get on an earlier flight. Domestic flights were being cancelled and there was no room on the ones that took off.

Talking to Glenn on the other side of the country, Daryl felt something important slipping from his grasp. But he wasn't going to just let it go. Andrea was on her phone with Amy. Daryl gave Merle his phone to keep Glenn on the line. Daryl used Merle's phone and finally got through to ATL. A ticket agent had good news.

"There's one more flight because the pilot wants to get home to L.A. It's free to anyone who wants to ride along because we're not supposed to be putting planes in the air but you have to get here fast. They won't wait."

Daryl wasn't a name dropper by nature but he was willing to use his celebrity this time. "This is Daryl Dixon. Maybe you've heard of me. I'll be there in an hour. Can you hold that flight?"

Ticket Guy recognized the name of course although Daryl knew there was no way to prove who he was on the phone. But the guy was willing to take a chance.

"They just started refueling and it will take longer because there's not many ground crew still here. I'll ask them to give you an hour."

There was no time to pack and Daryl didn't need anything anyway. He had clothes in L.A. But he wasn't going unarmed so he grabbed his crossbow case. Merle drove him and explained what was happening on the way.

Amy had told Andrea that her apartment building wasn't safe. People were breaking into apartments where they knew the residents were gone. They were looking for food before leaving the city. The next step would be breaking in when residents were there and Amy didn't want to be around for that. She would go to Glenn's studio which was more secure and unlikely to attract looters. Daryl would meet them there.


	7. Mon Ami or Moan Amy

Glenn 

There's a rap at the outer door and Amy calls out. Her voice sounds strained. I rush into the entry and start to unlock the outer door.

"Wait." Amy pulls aside a jacket, revealing a bite on her shoulder. It's not deep, her flesh isn't torn, but the skin is broken and the wound is oozing blood.

"No. Oh, no. I have a first aid kit. We'll disinfect it …"

"It won't work. We already know that much." Amy's voice is calmer, as if just being here is a relief. "They think it's in the air so it may not matter anyway but I don't want to take a chance. Unlock this door then go inside. I'll stay in the entry."

She locks the outer door behind her and makes me lock the inner door. We sit and talk with the glass between us.

Her eyes fill with tears. "I'll never see my sister and her family again."

"We don't know for sure if it affects everyone. Maybe you're immune."

"I can already feel myself changing. I don't think anyone is immune."

"I should have been the one to come to you. You'd be safe and I would have had a better chance out there."

Amy shakes her head. "My apartment building was like a war zone already. Probably yours, too. This place is more secure. People are looting food and weapons from homes and stores and then looking for a way out of the city. There's no food or weapons here."

"I'm so sorry, Amy. How can you be calm?"

"Because it's over for me. I think I blew through the stages of grief in the hour it took to get here after I was attacked."

I notice she's carrying a fireplace poker with blood on the end. "Did you have to … kill anyone?"

"I tried but it didn't work. That's how I got bit. I poked him – it – when he came after me but it didn't stop. And then it was too close. I pushed it after it bit me and it fell. That's how I got away. I looked back and it was getting up. But I saw a few others that weren't moving so they can be stopped." She looks at her poker. "I should have given you this. You'll need to deal with me."

I unlock the door to the entry and hold the door wide. "You're not going to infect me any more than the world will and I can't stay in here forever." I also can't let Amy's last contact be with a thing that tried to eat her.

Amy's face crumples as she walks in. She drops the poker and I hug her, avoiding her hurt shoulder.

"We have to at least try." I get the first aid kit and clean the bite and bandage it. She looks feverish. I make her drink water and take ibuprofen.

Amy cleans up in the bathroom and combs her hair and then insists on going back to the entry. "I don't feel well. It's coming on and I don't want to hurt you after I'm gone."

I start to move the sofa cushions but she says I'll need the sofa to get some rest. I don't argue although I know I won't sleep. We take the chair cushions to the entry. She's small enough to curl up on them. Her jacket is folded for a pillow.

I sit by the door and watch. Amy's eyes are closed but I can see the faint movement of her chest rising and falling.

Bad case scenario: Amy is unconscious or in a coma. Her body will fight this infection and she'll wake up weak but alive.

Worse: She dies and stays that way.

Worst: She reanimates as one of the walking dead.

An hour later her mouth opens on a gasp and all movement ceases. The situation has gone from Bad to Worse. Amy looks cold and lifeless and the color leeches from her skin as if she's already embalmed.

Three hours later I'm almost hopeful that she's really dead when the Worst happens. She groans. It's not pain or fear, just a mindless sound. Her eyes open, opaque and almost white. I say her name but there's no awareness. My voice is noise that turns her attention to me. She reaches out, snarling softly. I'm grateful for the glass between us. I scoot back into the shadows of the main building. All the lights are off but there's enough light from the parking lot to see Amy's body pull itself up and fumble at the door but she doesn't seem able to turn the handle and it wouldn't open if she did. Without sound or light inside she moves to the outer door where dawn is breaking. That door won't open either so Amy's body just stands there, back to me, looking out at the brightening day.

I keep watch and wonder when – if – Daryl will get here. I have her poker and I want Amy's body put to rest but I don't want to unlock that door and face her.


	8. Last Chopper Out of 'Nam

Daryl

Merle had always driven like a bat out of hell and still did unless the kids were with him. He and Daryl made good time on the road until they reached congestion near the airport. Merle drove over curbs and dividers until he could get no closer.

"I owe you, like you said I would," Daryl said. "It turned into something."

"I guess it did," Merle agreed. "Chasing a piece of ass in an epidemic."

"Well, I'm going for Amy, too."

"If it was just Amy, I'd go myself. She's my sis-in-law."

"We're all family. And I'd go anyway for Amy. You need to stay here and take care of Andrea and the kids."

"That woman of mine might be the one keepin' me safe. She's been dealing with the soulless in Hollywood for years."

"Unless this thing gets controlled quick, we'll have to drive back."

"Stay there if it's too dangerous to be on the road," Merle advised.

Daryl nodded. "But L.A. is probably gonna be worse than open road. Too many people in close quarters. They riot out there for less cause than this mess."

Daryl ran for the terminal. ATL was always organized chaos but now the organized part had lost the upper hand and chaos was gaining. Daryl made his way to the ticket counter the guy on the phone had told him to come to. Folks milled around but most counters were unoccupied and there were no more inquiries. Everybody knew flights were grounded but they didn't have any place else to go and there was always hope that things would get back to normal.

The ticket agent's name was Jimmy. "It's really you. I love your movies. It's great to have somebody representing for Georgia. You sure you want to take this flight? I bet it's safer here than California." He looked around. "Maybe."

"Gotta find a couple of people out there."

"Come around the counter here. The gates are all closed. I'll get you to the plane."

Jimmy led Daryl through a maze of corridors. They exited close to the plane which had a portable staircase in place. A flight attendant stood at the top. Daryl and Jimmy ran up the steps.

"Good luck, sir."

"Thanks Jimmy. Appreciate your help."

Jimmy closed the plane door, went back down and moved the staircase away from the plane.

Inside, the flight attendant smiled at Daryl. She was calm. Probably used to dealing with weird or even dangerous situations up in the air. Daryl felt like he just caught the last helicopter before the fall of Saigon. It was before his time but he remembered seeing old news footage on an anniversary of the Viet Nam war.

"Take any seat. There are only thirty passengers."

Daryl was surprised that first class was empty. Since there was no charge for the flight he figured everybody would want to sit up front. He glanced at the rear of the plane and understood. A few people were sitting together who appeared to be traveling together but the singles were keeping their distance from each other. There was enough space so everybody could have their own row. One guy in a suit was buckled in with eyes closed and seat reclined as far as it would go. Daryl hoped he'd be able to get some sleep but doubted it. He felt too wired.

Daryl pushed his case under one seat and sat in another. The flight attendant got on the intercom.

"Welcome aboard. We're very informal tonight so I'm not going to do the usual spiel. You're all here because you need to get to L.A. and this is probably the last flight for the foreseeable future. Captain Aaron Marquand is our pilot. Sasha Williams, a Navy pilot, is serving as civilian co-pilot. I'm Carol Peletier. There will be no food service but we do have some snacks and beverages and I'll bring them around later. As you have all been informed, there is no charge for this flight due to the unusual circumstances. We don't anticipate any problems but you are all here voluntarily at your own risk. You know the drill. Please fasten your seatbelts. Use the call button if you need any assistance."

Daryl buckled up. Carol moved through the cabin making sure everyone was strapped in. The plane rolled away from the terminal and got into position on the runway. Carol took her seat, the engines roared and the plane accelerated. They were in the air and climbing and then leveled out at cruising altitude. The intercom crackled again.

"I'm Captain Marquand. Our flight time is four hours and forty minutes which gets us to LAX at five forty-five Pacific time, just in time for sunrise. You're free to move about the cabin, and I'll warn you if there's turbulence, but for everyone's safety I advise remaining seated with seat belt fastened whenever possible. We're facing a terrible outbreak and we don't know much about it yet. Let's be careful of ourselves and each other."

Carol passed out snacks and water, juice and soda. There was enough for each passenger to have a couple bottles or cans. Andrea had given Daryl bottled water before he left and Merle had provided a package of homemade jerky. Daryl took soda and juice for the sugar and energy. No alcohol. There was probably some available but Daryl thought it was a wise decision not to serve it. They didn't need to deal with drunks dead or alive. There were also little bags of pretzels and packages of crackers.

Daryl couldn't hear any talking behind him. He used the toilet once and saw everybody sitting silent, tense and worried, holding it together on the edge of panic. Just like him. Daryl tried to nap, knowing he needed to be sharp when they landed but it was hard to relax.

Carol sat down across the aisle to talk. Daryl was grateful for the distraction.

"You're Daryl Dixon, the actor. We've flown together before. I remember your name from passenger manifests but I was serving in coach on your flights. I'm originally from Georgia but I live in L.A. now and work the flights between LAX and ATL. I met my husband out there and we have a daughter, Sophia. She's twelve. I have to get home to her. I'm so glad the captain wanted to get back or this flight wouldn't have happened."

"How will it work landing? What if there's no traffic controller?"

"There will be one. Captain Marquand's partner Eric is in the tower. He's why Aaron wants to get home. What about you? You're from Georgia."

"I came to get my sister-in-law and a friend. We'll probably drive back to Georgia. My brother and his family are there. If this keeps going bad, we should be together."

"I think we're going to be in trouble for awhile," Carol said seriously. "Worse than 9/11."

They were an hour from L.A. when there were shouts from behind: "Oh god, it's happening." "He's infected!"

Daryl and Carol ran to coach. The man Daryl had thought was sleeping had been dying instead. His arms were flailing but at least he was confined. Then one finger caught on the seat belt. The man's arm jerked and the buckle released. The man's eyes were open. They looked blind and his skin was waxy gray. He started pulling himself up. Carol stepped forward and the man's head turned to her, mouth opening, teeth snapping.

Daryl pulled Carol back. "Don't touch him and don't let him touch you."

The man was still struggling to get out of the reclined seat which gave Daryl time to get his crossbow. He loaded a bolt and returned to coach. The man was standing. Daryl shot him in the leg. He fell back but immediately rose again. Daryl loaded another bolt and shot him in the shoulder. The man stumbled back but didn't stop trying to get up. Enough of this shit. Daryl put a bolt into the man's belly. If the man had been sitting down it might have gone through and pinned him to the seat but he remained standing. He was growling some wordless sounds. Daryl lifted one booted foot and shoved at the belly bolt. The man sat down and Daryl put the crossbow close and shot him in the eye. The man stopped moving and went limp. He looked like a fucking pin cushion. Passengers gathered around to stare for a moment then became aware of how near they were to each other and they backed away. Daryl couldn't afford to waste ammunition. He retrieved his bolts and wiped them on a seat cushion.

"Whatever's causing this must shut off pain receptors. Looks like you can stop them if you hit the brain. Maybe the heart, too, but we don't know yet."

They landed a little later without further incident. It was light enough to see planes abandoned near the gates and even a few on the runways. They taxied as close to the terminal as they could get. The plane powered down and the captain and co-pilot came out of the cockpit. The captain and Carol opened the door. Daryl slung the case over his shoulder but kept the loaded crossbow ready. Outside, two men were on a small truck with a staircase. The driver was a slender man with red hair. The other was a bulky black man with a big smile.

"That's my brother," Sasha the co-pilot said with relief. "Tyreese!"

Carol was first down the stairs, Sasha was next and Daryl followed. A few minutes later the captain was last to leave after the rest of the passengers. He and Eric hugged unselfconsciously. Daryl watched without appearing to stare. He wanted to be holding Glenn like that. He was so close now.

The captain spoke. "We can let you into the main terminal if you want but Eric says it's pretty bad in there. We're going across to staff parking, get our car and head home. You can get to the parking garages from there."

Everybody went with them to a fenced lot. It was nearly empty. Most employees had left by now. Daryl followed Carol to an old yellow Jeep. She'd offered to drive Daryl away from LAX. She lived in a different direction than he was heading but he figured he could find a vehicle on the street once they were clear of the airport.

He stopped her on a street with several parked cars. "Thanks Carol. You and your family stay safe."

"I hope you find your friends and get home all right."

A couple of the cars had doors standing open. One had a key in the ignition. It started and Daryl drove off but was stopped a couple of miles later by a blocked intersection. There was a wreck it was impossible to navigate. He needed something smaller. He spied a crotch rocket. It was a scooter compared to the big bikes he was used to but beggars couldn't be choosers. He hotwired it and took off, easily weaving through tight spots. The freeways were choked with traffic leaving L.A. but within the city there were almost deserted areas. Folks were holing up, hunkering down to wait it out. Daryl thought this could be an advantage, a sweet spot in the timeline of disaster when it was possible to move relatively freely. He had to get to Glenn and Amy. If they could get out of the city and find gas along the way, they could get home in a couple of days with three of them sharing the driving. They'd need water and some food. Daryl had eaten some jerky and drunk some water during the flight and stashed the rest. There was a snack bar at Glenn's studio that they could raid. Amy had probably brought stuff from her apartment.

It took twice as long to reach Glenn's studio as it should have. It was full daylight when Daryl pulled up. Amy was standing in the entry, waiting for him. Except it wasn't Amy any more. And she was waiting to eat him not greet him. Where was Glenn? Was Daryl too late? Had he lost both of them?


	9. Escape From L.A.

Glenn 

I'm asleep sitting up with my head on my knees when there's a rap at the outer door. Daryl! Or the military, called out to save civilians?

It's Daryl but he doesn't look like a rising action star anymore. He's wearing work pants, laced boots and a shirt with the sleeves cut off. Something is hanging off his shoulder, maybe a weapon. He looks natural and dangerous and I realize this is the real Daryl Dixon. 

Amy is clawing at the glass door. Daryl looks sorrowful but he smiles when he sees me. I motion him around to the back door and a minute later his arms are around me.

I tell him about Amy and end with, "This is really happening. A global pandemic."

"It was always going to be something."

"Did you think about it much?"

"I didn't dwell on it but it crossed my mind. Always figured it was a toss-up between nuclear and some kind of outbreak."

"This is worse than bird flu or flesh eating bacteria. It's affecting the dead and they're going after the living."

"Most folks don't want to die," Daryl says. "But they expect to at least rest in peace when it happens."

"A lot of religious people looked forward to the resurrection of the dead."

"Be careful what you wish for."

"I thought about life as we know it ending but if it had to happen, I hoped for an asteroid, something that wasn't our fault."

"Why would that be better?"

"It seemed important that we not do it to ourselves, that it be something out of our control."

"You wanted humans to be better than this," Daryl says. He understands what I mean.

"We need to do something about Amy."

"Yeah. I'll do it if you don't want to but you should if you can. Everybody needs to learn how to handle these things. I took care of one on the plane. Only thing that stopped him was a bolt to the brain."

The complicated-looking weapon on his shoulder is a crossbow. I'll stick with the poker.

I take a deep breath. I have to be able to pull my weight. "I can do it."

Daryl hesitates. "The thing is, maybe the heart will work too. We should try that first."

"We can't treat her like that."

"I think we have to. It's not Amy any more but she can still teach us how to survive."

Daryl is right but I wish we had a stranger to practice on.

Amy turns when we open the inner door. Daryl trips her with the crossbow and she falls on her back. He stands with a foot on each arm. I put a foot on her abdomen and position the poker. Do I look like I'm about to stake a vampire? Daryl nods that the poker is in the right place. I jam it down hard and feel the sternum splinter but Amy is still undead.

"Try the brain," Daryl says. "An eye will be easier than the skull."

The poker makes a sucking sound as I pull it out. The wound is appalling. I hate this, and I might get sick. I take a breath and place the tip of the poker in her eye. Her head jerks but I hold it steady and bear down. I feel the soft eyeball pop. I keep pushing and suddenly Amy is no longer moving.

Daryl pulls me away, sits me down and pushes my head between my legs. I'm better in a few minutes.

"Okay," Daryl says. "Now we know it has to be a head shot. Go back inside. I'll finish this up."

But I stay and help Daryl move Amy to the chair cushions. Before I lay her jacket over her head Daryl reaches down and takes off her necklace.

"Andrea gave this to her when she was ten and loved mermaids. Jesus, I hate having to tell her what happened."

"We won't tell her everything."

"Nope. Amy died peacefully with one shot to the brain."

"She was quite a bit younger than Andrea?"

"Fifteen years. Their folks thought Andrea would be an only child. The sisters didn't really know each other until the last few years. Amy was so young when Andrea left for college. Then she went on to law school and came out here to California. The family is from Florida. I met Amy when Merle and Andrea got married five years ago."

"I'm so sorry. She shouldn't have been on the street alone. I should have gone to her."

"No. This is something else I won't be telling Andrea. Better Amy than you. She was a sweet girl and I'm sorry as hell that she's dead but if it had been you …" Daryl's voice trails off.

I pull him inside and close and lock the inner door. We sit together on the sofa.

"We've both killed people. Well, they used to be people. We still have to get out of here and across the country. I'm scared, Daryl. I don't want our first time together to be the only time."

Glenn's words hit Daryl like a sucker punch. It was followed by a wave of need that Daryl didn't even try to resist. He jerked Glenn into his arms. Their mouths and tongues mashed together in imitation of pelvises and cocks grinding. The real thing was next as jeans, pants and underwear were discarded. When they were close to climax they separated far enough to touch each other and watch themselves come.

They collapsed on the sofa to let their hearts and breathing slow.

"Feel better since our first time isn't the last time?" Daryl asked.

"Yes, but now I don't want our second time to be the last. Or our third time. Or our …"

"I get it, you're greedy. Me, too. I'm satisfied for now but it feels like I'll never have my fill of you."

Daryl 

The plan had always been to bring Amy and Glenn home to Georgia but after losing Amy, Daryl hadn't stopped to think that the plan could change now.

"I been making assumptions I shouldn't have," Daryl said. "I never asked where you want to go. You said your family is in Michigan. We could go there instead."

"Georgia is better if this lasts until winter. Your family is waiting and they need to know about Amy. We haven't been able to call again."

"Your family will worry, too."

"I told them earlier this week that we met and I was going to Georgia for the weekend. They got through to me last night. They know you were on the way. When this is over, we'll go to Michigan and you can meet them."

Daryl was secretly glad the plan remained the same. The idea of meeting Glenn's family made him more nervous than the walking dead.

Glenn 

We box up the food and bottles from the snack bar. I have a backpack but I'll save that for clothes if we can get to my apartment. There's nothing else useful in the studio. My Prius is behind the building where I let Daryl in. He wedges the motorbike in the hatch just in case we need it. The half tank of gas will take us more than two hundred miles but it would be good to start out with a full tank. Daryl's place is closer than my apartment so we go there. To Merle's house actually. Daryl goes to the kids' aquarium and removes the hose. He rinses it, shakes it out and uses it to siphon gas from the motorbike to my Prius. Same thing with Andrea's sporty little car. When the Prius is full he tops up a five gallon gas can. We find enough containers to empty out Merle's SUV.

Daryl leaves me in the kitchen to pack anything edible or drinkable and disappears. He comes back with a nine millimeter handgun and ammunition. Again I feel as if I'm seeing Daryl for the first time. He was different from anyone I'd met before. That's why I was so attracted at first. But now he's different from when we met and I like him even more. Tough and resourceful. A fighter and hunter.

"This is Merle's. I've got one, too."

We go through the back yard to Daryl's cottage to retrieve the gun. I look for more food and drink while Daryl packs a duffel with clothes. We decide not to bother with my apartment. Andrea and I are about the same size so I borrow a few of her tee shirts and sweat pants. There's even a pair of jeans that fit.

The Prius is full and we feel good about our supplies. It's twenty-two hundred miles to Atlanta and the gas we have will take us halfway. After that we'll buy if we can and steal if we can't.

Daryl takes surface streets out of the city. There's a lot of backtracking and detouring and it takes hours longer than it should but at least we're making progress. Traffic on the freeways we see along the way is practically motionless. There's honking and fender benders and people getting out of cars to fight as tempers rise and panic takes hold.

"Can we take Route 66?" I'm excited at the thought. It's the old historic highway and might not be too busy.

Daryl looks regretful. "It's farther north and we'd have to get south eventually. We better take a southern route right away. Sorry, kid."

I don't mind. We'll get our kicks another way.


	10. The Day the Music Died

Daryl

They made good time after they finally got out of the city. It was like Daryl figured when riding the bike to Glenn. Away from the urban centers folks had gone to ground and it was quieter. That would change if this outbreak didn't get contained soon. If supplies really ran short, the façade of civilization would slip away. Daryl wanted to be on his home turf before that happened.

Meanwhile, he was reluctantly enjoying the Prius. He'd always driven trucks and SUVs but this small, efficient car rode nice and it would stretch their gas farther than he thought possible. He glanced at Glenn next to him. The kid wasn't big or particularly strong but he was smart and determined. Daryl knew Glenn had hated what they did to Amy but he did it anyway. And the kid contributed their best bet for transportation across the country.

The first day out of L.A. they stopped a couple of times to top up the tank at places that were still open and selling gas for three times the going rate from a few days ago. Little mom and pop shops along highways that didn't get as much business as the interstates. Folks who wanted to make a bundle while they could. Daryl didn't mind paying. He had money and he suspected it wouldn't be worth much soon.

The second day everybody had closed up. They figured out that hoarding was a better option.

As they had traveled through California radio programming ceased except for announcements on the status of the crisis. At first the announcements were live, delivered by people still on the air, their voices changing as Daryl and Glenn moved in and out of range with each station. Halfway through Arizona the messages were replaced with a taped warning on continuous loop with no new information. Radio staff had gone home to be with loved ones. Daryl turned the radio low and kept it on seek, scanning the waves, looking for the next station in range. He and Glenn would notice and turn it up if the murmur of the taped message was interrupted by a live feed. This continued across New Mexico and into Texas until suddenly a man's voice came through loud and clear for a few seconds before the radio scanned for the next station. Daryl swerved the car in surprise and Glenn fumbled with the radio to find the live station again.

"… So welcome to the end of the world with T-Dog at K-Dig outside Lavender, Texas, where we bring you the best of the seventies. I picked a hell of a day to take my car in yesterday. My shift ended thirty hours ago and that courtesy van is way overdue. I'm safe inside for now but the wolves are at the door. And by wolves I mean zombies. The highway is a mile away and there was a pile-up awhile back. The undead survivors arrived an hour ago. But don't you worry 'bout me. There's Red Bull in the fridge. Owners stock it to keep us DJs awake. We're stuck out here in the country by the signal tower, away from the main office. Plenty of snacks, too. And I got my own weed. Shhh! Don't tell owners or sponsors. Here's a free PSA: Drugs are bad, kids. Y'all stay with me, now. I ain't gonna get to my shithole apartment much less home to Georgia where my Gran lives. So I'll be with you until the Red Bull and turkey jerky runs out. We dig the '70s here at K-Dig and I'm gonna play something suitable."

 _Day after day, I'm more confused_  
_Yet I look for the light through the pourin' rain_  
_You know that's a game that I hate to lose_  
_And I'm feelin' the strain, ain't it a shame._

 _Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul_  
_I wanna get lost in your rock 'n' roll and drift away_  
_Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul_  
_I wanna get lost in your rock 'n' roll and drift away._

 _Beginnin' to think that I'm wastin' time_  
_I don't understand the things I do_  
_The world outside looks so unkind_  
_Now I'm countin' on you to carry me through._

 _Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul_  
_I wanna get lost in your rock 'n' roll and drift away_  
_Yeah, give me the beat boys and free my soul_  
_I wanna get lost in your rock 'n' roll and drift away._

 _And when my mind is free_  
_You know a melody can move me_  
_And when I'm feelin' blue_  
_The guitar's comin' through to soothe me._

 _Thanks for the joy that you've given me_  
_I want you to know I believe in your song_  
_And rhythm and rhyme and harmony_  
_You help me along makin' me strong._

 _Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul_  
_I wanna get lost in your rock 'n' roll and drift away_  
_Give me the beat boys and free my soul_  
_I wanna get lost in your rock 'n' roll and drift away._

T-Dog's voice was a little slurred and he sounded maudlin. "Yessir, the world outside looks so unkind. I'm gonna stay in and drift away … whoa. Someone's knocking at the door. No, I don't mean Paul McCartney is up next. Somebody's here."

The airwaves were silent for several long minutes. Then T-Dog was back, almost crying.

"Folks, I hate to break my promise to stick with you but I got an offer I can't refuse. I'm going home to Georgia! Went to the door and all them zombies were laid out like trees felled in a forest. And standing there with a crossbow is Daryl freaking Dixon and an Asian dude with a fireplace poker. Green Hornet and Kato! Daryl is a native son from Georgia in the movie biz. He was out in L.A. and he's heading home. Heard me on the air and stopped to give me a ride. This is some serious cosmic lottery shit I just won. Or maybe the Lord's looking out for me. That's what my Gran would say. I hope to see her soon. This is Theodore Douglas signing off from KDIG."

Glenn

When we hear T-Dog on the radio we have to stop and help. He's just ahead of us off the highway and he's from Georgia. There are eight walkers surrounding his broadcast hut, which gives us pause, but Daryl wades in and I'm right behind him. With only one kill each under our belts we need the practice. We use the crossbow and poker in order to kill silently and save bullets.

Theodore Douglas is black with a round face that I bet is usually happier. Although he looks pretty happy when we show up. T-Dog is somewhat under the influence so we put him in the back seat and exchange stories while he sobers up.

At a pit stop later, Daryl and I finish first. T-Dog comes out from doing his business behind a tree to see Daryl's arm around my shoulders. We're both leaning into the kiss and we don't bother to break apart when T sees us.

"Like that, is it?" T asks.

"Yeah," Daryl replies. "You mind?"

"Tell you what, I'm so grateful for the rescue that if I did mind, I wouldn't mind, you feel me? But I'm down with it." T pauses as he reads our expressions and then blurts, "Oh hell no! I didn't mean I wanna join in or watch. Y'all do that stuff away from me in case it's catching." He grins to show he doesn't mean it and adds, "I got a lesbian cousin. You might say she was instrumental in adjusting my attitude."

Down the road T asks Daryl, "I never heard anything about you coming out in Hollywood."

"There was no reason to make it official."

"You were getting recognized. Couldn't keep it down low much longer."

"I didn't have anybody until recently." Daryl glances at me. I smile back.

"I'm gonna miss your movies, man. Just starting a new one, weren't you?" T asks.

"Yeah, a buddy movie with Rick Grimes. Supposed to be the big break for both of us. Table read rehearsals were starting next week."

"Rick Grimes! I was going to map his action figure after Memorial weekend. He's from Georgia, too, isn't he?"

"Yeah, farther north from Atlanta. We only met twice while we were reading for the parts. The movie takes place in the south and I guess they thought we were pretty authentic. I was looking forward to it."

"I hope they clean this up quick so we can all get back to our lives," T says.

"I think it's gonna take longer than 9/11 to get back to normal," Daryl replies.

I'm afraid he's right. But I'm glad we'll be together through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dobie Gray - Drift Away](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gr_eVcCAUXo)   
> 


	11. Hitching a Ride

Daryl 

They drove through the night and the next day. Gas was getting low so they stopped at a car lot to siphon from the shiny cars sitting in a row. It took a while since each one had only a couple of gallons for test drives. They filled the tank and the gas cans. It should be enough to get them home.

And it would have been but the Prius broke down not far from Birmingham, Alabama. A hundred and fifty miles from Atlanta along an empty stretch of road with no vehicles and no houses nearby that might have yielded transportation. Daryl knew they'd find something eventually but it was early evening and it was getting more dangerous to be out in the dark. If they didn't come across transport soon they'd need to find shelter for the night. They took their food, water and weapons and set off walking.

Five miles later there were still no vehicles in sight but they heard the sound of an engine in the distance behind them. They readied weapons and stepped off the road into the trees. Whether they tried to hitch a ride would depend on what was coming their way. It was dusk and the light was going fast.

As it drew near, Daryl frowned and craned his neck to see the driver of the yellow Jeep. He stepped onto the road and held out an arm. The Jeep sped up and moved to the far side of the road in order to zoom past but as it got closer it slowed again and came to a stop. The window rolled down and a woman smiled. "I don't pick up strangers but I'll stop for Daryl Dixon and his friends." 

"Carol. Glad to see you made it out of L.A." Daryl leaned down and looked across at a young girl. "With your daughter. Sophia, right?" The girl nodded.

Daryl whispered to Carol, "Your husband?"

Carol's smile faded. She shook her head.

Daryl introduced Glenn and T-Dog and they all piled into the back seat.

"What happened?" Carol asked.

"My Prius died," Glenn said glumly. "I might have skipped some regularly scheduled maintenance."

"I saw it a few miles back. Terrific gas mileage, I bet."

"Yeah, but your Jeep is still humming along. Did you have trouble finding gas?"

"Everybody in my neighborhood mows their own lawn and a lot of them weren't home. I raided their garages for gas cans."

Daryl looked over his shoulder and peeked under the tarp covering the cargo area. It was neatly packed and stacked with gas containers of varying sizes. "Smart," he said. "We'll be glad to help with the driving."

"Thanks," Carol said. "I'm running on adrenaline with no one to switch off with. I don't like to drive at night but it's cooler and I wanted to keep moving when it was dark."

She pulled over and Daryl drove. T-Dog rode shotgun. Carol curled up against one door with her daughter tucked against her. They slept, exhausted. Glenn napped against the other door. Daryl had thought Carol was a calm, capable woman during the flight but now he was impressed. A recent widow on the road for three days with a young daughter to protect. This was one tough woman.

Two hours later it was full dark as they approached Atlanta. There was an unfamiliar glow against the night sky. Benford and the Dixon homestead were on the other side of the city.

"There's a quarry a couple of miles off the road. We can get water, maybe spend the night. I don't like the look of Atlanta up ahead. Maybe there'll be people at the quarry who can tell us what's going on. T and Glenn, have the guns ready just in case. Carol and Sophia, stay down."

Daryl drove slowly up the lane. He could see vehicles ahead in a rough circle and campfires beyond.

Suddenly T-Dog said, "Oh, shit. Big white dude coming out of the trees with a rifle in one hand and his other hand is a hook! This don't end well for black folk."

Daryl braked. He and Glenn both called out, "Merle?"

"Daryl? Glenn?" Merle approached the Jeep. "You made it!" He stooped to look in. It took him a few seconds to look over the occupants and know that somebody was missing. "Amy?" he asked grimly.

"She was attacked on the way to the studio. She got there but she died a few hours later."

Merle grimaced. "Andrea's with the kids. She'll take it hard."

"How do we tell her?"

"I'll do it. But she'll probably wanna talk to you sometime. Drive on up. I brought extra tents."

Merle traded guard duty with a Hispanic man called Morales. Andrea heard the commotion of their arrival and came out of Merle's big family tent. She knew just looking at them that it wasn't good news. Merle took her aside and spoke quietly. Andrea started crying softly and he wrapped her up. They walked away a little so she wouldn't wake the kids.

Glenn 

Daryl and I put up the two-man tent that Daryl shared with Merle before he married. A smaller tent they used as boys is big enough for T-Dog. An older white-haired man named Dale has an RV with two beds and he offers the extra bed to Carol and Sophia.

We're reunited with Daryl's family and settled for the night but sleep doesn't come easily.

The next morning we learn that the military called in airstrikes and released napalm in Atlanta in an attempt to stop the spread of infection. It didn't work. The city is not only overrun with walking dead but parts of it are burned.

It's not officially summer but Georgia is already hot and dry and the water was almost gone so Merle left a note for Daryl and moved his family to the quarry.


	12. Matters of the Heart

Glenn

Andrea asks to speak with Daryl and me. Her eyes are red and swollen but she's composed. She wants to know about her sister's last hours. I tell her how brave Amy was and that her last thoughts were of her family. Daryl explains briefly that we put her to rest and that he knew how to do it because of a man on the flight out. He hands over the necklace. Andrea seems comforted knowing that Amy remembered it during the crisis and wanted to bring it with her. She puts it on but it's a young girl's necklace and is a little close to her neck, as it was on Amy. When Chloe comes up and sees it, Andrea puts it around her daughter's neck instead. Chloe runs off to show Caleb and Andrea smiles.

"We're all going to lose people before this is over." Andrea nods towards a gangly bearded man sitting as if in a trance. "That's Jim. He lost his wife, son and daughter the first day. He's a mechanic. Dale is trying to keep him occupied fixing the RV. Dale is a nice man."

T-Dog is worried. He wants to go into the city to see if his cousin and his Gran got out. Daryl and I are going with him. I still remember some shortcuts from my delivery days. A few others are coming along to salvage what we can. There are about twenty of us at the quarry and we'll need supplies.

We return with quite a haul and a truck to store it in. But it won't last forever and we'll need to keep going back. The block T-Dog's Gran lived on is still smoldering and we couldn't get close enough to check her building. He's hoping for the best but prepared for the worst. So much uncertainty but there's one thing I am certain of and it's time to tell Daryl.

We haven't been together since the studio. First we were focused on getting out of L.A. and then T was with us. Tonight is our best time yet. Plus we're as safe as it's possible to be right now. Afterward I come out with it:

"I love you, Daryl. I wanted to tell you after our first night together but it was too soon. Then after our second time I didn't want you to think I was just grateful that you came to get me."

"I love you, too. I didn't want you to think I was just saying it because we had great sex so I was gonna wait until we had sex that wasn't so good."

"I thought we just had really good sex!"

"We did. I think it's always gonna be good so I figured I better say it now."

* * *

In the morning we unpack stuff from Atlanta and rearrange our tent. Daryl finds a package in my backpack that I brought from California.

"What's this?"

"You, of course. The prototype was the last delivery to my studio. Made exactly to my specs."

Daryl looks over the details which are flawless. "It's a good job. But weird to see me as a doll."

"Action figure. And perfect as it is, it's still no match for the original."

"You're just saying that 'cause I'm anatomically correct."

"And full sized. I might even say super sized in that area."

"We'll probably never know how I would have sold."

"That makes this a true collector's item. Only one in existence and it's mine."

"The original model is yours, too."


End file.
